Invisible
by MonAmour6
Summary: Daryl is falling in love with his student. He's starting to think that she's falling for him, too.
1. Chapter 1

Beth was having a bad day.

She'd had a bad day for a solid fifty nine days. It had to be some kind of world record. Like someone who kept hiccuping for two months straight. It had to do with the fact that it was senior year. Beth was just two months in and already it had felt like a year had passed by.

Between the massive workload and the pressure of applying to college, Beth could barely fall asleep before two in the morning.

But there was a tiny part to Beth's days that she loved. It was a small reprieve from the shitstorm of senior year. It came in the form of her tenth bell class, AP Lit.

A lot of seniors skipped their tenth bell, because why not? It was senior year and there was nothing administration could really do to stop them. But no one ever skipped AP Lit tenth bell, because it was taught by Mr. Daryl Dixon.

Daryl Dixon was a new teacher this year. He'd only been there two months but he was already a popular teacher. Not to mention the senior girls had decided he was the most "fuckable" teacher in the entire school.

AP Lit had a far more relaxed atmosphere than other classes, where the kids could choose their seats. Dixon cussed in class and let them cuss, too. Before a huge exam they would push the desks against the wall, throw down a huge blanket, and have an indoor picnic review session.

Dixon wasn't in class when Beth arrived. She took a seat by her friends and listened to their chatter. The bell rang but Dixon still did not show up. He did this sometimes.

Everyone was talking loudly when suddenly the door slammed shut in Dixon's wake. He had a stack of papers spilling out of his hands.

"About time you showed up, Dixon!" crowed one of the athletes.

"Watch your mouth, Porter, or I'll mark you absent for today," Mr. Dixon threatened good naturedly. There came laughter from around Beth.

Mr. Dixon was dressed today in a long sleeved button up that matched the blue of his eyes. A skinny black tie fell crookedly down his chest. His black pants had chalk dust on them. Dixon was one of the last teachers in the school who still used chalk. He said it preserved the nuance of English, whatever that meant.

"I hope you all brought your A-game today," Dixon barked as he threw the papers down on his cluttered desk. "Because we're taking a pop quiz over Macbeth."

In a normal class, a collected groan would have met Dixon's words.

But because everything about his class was different, everyone sat up straighter and looked excited. A pop quiz could mean they were going on the roof or something eccentric.

"Grab a partner, we're going outside," Dixon said with a crooked smile. Everyone broke into excitement as they partnered up and went out into the hallway.

Beth's hand was grabbed by her friend Erin. "Dixon looks hot today," she sighed after him as he swept by, leading them outside. Beth felt herself stiffen. Her eyes flicked to Daryl, who was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and revealing his tanned forearms. Her cheeks warmed.

"I guess so," she managed.

Erin threw her a disbelieving look. "There's no guessing about it, you moron. Look at him! I would ride that pony all the way to Amsterdam and back," she said dreamily.

"Stop making references to Fault in our Stars," Beth said, exasperated. "And don't talk about him like that, he's... our teacher."

The conversation ended the moment they stepped out into the burning afternoon light. They had fallen behind a bit, and were the last to join everyone outside in the grass behind the school.

"Thank you for joining us, ladies," Dixon said to them wryly, but he only had eyes for Beth. His blue eyes sent a thrill through her. She ducked her head.

"Your pop quiz is to find something out here that symbolically relates to Macbeth. If it's creative enough you'll pass. Fleterson put your hand down, the clouds don't count."

Everyone trilled with laughter before Dixon sent them off. Students were milling around everywhere, looking like little kids on an Easter egg hunt.

The back of their school was surrounded by grass and a small thicket that was more filled with thorns than trees. Erin wanted to go towards the trees where everyone else was, but Beth had something else in mind.

She let Erin go and ambled towards the small road that stretched alongside the school. Her eyes fell on a small pile of torn flesh in the middle of the street. It might have once been a squirrel, judging from the bushy tail. Beth crinkled her nose, thinking. She felt sorry for the little guy. Hopefully she could give his death purpose and connect him to Macbeth.

She felt strangely nervous as she called Dixon over. He'd been in the middle of breaking up a stick fight between two boys.

"Where's your partner?" he smiled when he drew closer.

Beth rolled her eyes and nodded towards Erin. Her friend was too busy flirting with one of the soccer boys to focus on Macbeth. Dixon snorted, shaking his head.

"Alright, Beth. Dazzle me." Dixon folded his arms, giving her a crooked smile. Beth's chest tightened every time he looked at her like that.

She flipped her hair, trying to act like she never swooned over him, and pointed out the dead squirrel. She made a connection about the blood staining the road to the way blood had stained Lady Macbeth's floor. Despite himself, Dixon looked impressed. He shifted from foot to foot, staying a safe distance from her. Beth felt jittery and her armpits were beginning to feel sweaty. Damn nerves.

"Well done, Beth. You definitely get points for thinking outside of the box," he told her, smirking.

"Thanks," she said, suddenly sheepish.

Something abruptly landed on Beth's arm. A small, emerald green grasshopper that chosen her as its landing spot. Before she could react, Dixon reached out and quickly swept the insect off of her arm. Bolts of electricity ran through her, exciting the butterflies in her stomach. Beth was taken aback by her sudden impulse to touch him.

"Well you got the grade you wanted," Dixon said, pressing his mouth into a false smile. As he walked back towards the others, Beth was left with a hollow feeling in her stomach.

_You silly man, _she inwardly sighed. _What do you know about want?_

* * *

Whoever had made advanced calculus a high school course deserved to be beaten up.

Beth was in her room, staring at her calc book as the numbers and words slid off the page. Maggie was home from college this weekend, and had brought back with her an acquired taste for bad country music. She was blasting it upstairs. Beth groaned, running her hands through her hair.

Her concentration officially shattered, Beth closed her books. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palm, exhausted. The red numbers on her alarm clock glowed at 8:47.

"It's not even nine," she muttered to herself. "I'm tired and it's not even nine." She felt like a grumpy eighty two year old woman trapped in an eighteen year old's body.

Her phone started buzzing wildly on her bed. Grateful for the distraction, she swiped it expecting the call to be from one of her friends. When she saw the number, she stopped. It was an unknown number. Her finger hovered above the ignore button before she decided to answer.

"Hello?" she asked uncertainly.

"Beth."

It was Mr. Dixon.

A snake was sliding through her intestines, wrapping itself tightly around her wind pipe so she couldn't breath.

"...Yes?" She did her best to not sound shaky. He had never called her before.

"Beth," he said again, his voice urgent and muffled. "I- I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm at a bar and Erin is here. I think she got someone to buy her beers."

Beth's awkwardness was immediately replaced by concern for her friend. "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's right here-"

"BETH!" came Erin's voice in the background. She sounded drunk. "MR. DIXON IS BEING A BUZZKILL."

Beth sighed. She couldn't call Erin's parents to pick her up because they'd be furious. As much as Erin deserved it, Beth couldn't do that to her friend. She also wasn't comfortable with calling one of their friends to pick Erin up, since they probably wouldn't see anything wrong with Erin being drunk.

"Okay where are you?"

Dixon hesitated. "Um, Preston's."

Beth's voice caught in her throat. _Preston's._ Of course, it had to be _that _bar, didn't it? She hadn't been to Preston's since July, since... well, all of this started. She violently shook her head to clear her thoughts. She wasn't going to think about herself right now. Her friend needed help.

"I'll be there in ten minutes," she said, and hung up before Dixon could reply.

* * *

**_A/N: _**Tried typing the majority of this on my phone... will not be making that mistake again!


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: **_You _guys! _I'm thrilled that this story has been received so well! Huge thanks to everyone who followed and favorited this story, and to my lovely reviewers!

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Erin was sitting on a bench outside of Preston's.

The Preston's sign was made of neon lights, bleeding eery colors across the parking-lot. As Beth approached she thought Erin was alone, but then someone shifted in the shadows. Her heart involuntarily jerked in her chest. Dixon was leaning against the brick, arms folded.

"BETH!" Erin sounded thrilled to see her. "Are you here to join the party?"

Beth had coached herself on the drive to Preston's. Though this marked the first time she had really been to Preston's since July, Beth had been here often in her dreams. Dixon was always there, waiting for her. She had promised herself that she wasn't going to freak out.

She swallowed the tremor in her voice and said, "Hi, Mr. Dixon. Thanks for everything." God, her words were so forced. Being here with him was too much.

As much as he was trying to hide it, Beth could tell he was struggling as well. He looked inhuman under the alternating green and blue lights. "Found her drinking with some guy. She admitted that he bought her drinks."

Beth's awkwardness was briefly forgotten in parental annoyance towards Erin. She folded her arms, glaring daggers down at Erin. "What do you have to say for yourself?" she asked, voice dangerously low.

Erin's excitement died. She was suddenly very interested in her shoes. Her dark hair fell around her face, muffling her words: "I just needed to be drunk. It makes it easier to forget stuff."

This only served to make Beth angrier. "Do you realize how selfish you sound? What if that guy had laced your drink, Erin? What if Mr. Dixon hadn't been here tonight?"

Erin grew very quiet. Her shoulders slumped during a brief moment of sobriety. "I'm sorry. I really am."

She pushed her hair away from her forehead, blowing out a long breath. Well, at least Erin was now in good hands. She'd have to come back to Beth's place, since she was in no state to be around her strict parents.

"Come on, get in the car," Beth sighed, resigned. She was suddenly too tired to be angry. Erin was still drunk, so Beth's words were wasted on her. She didn't have enough strength to parent Erin right now. She could barely stand on her own two feet.

Dixon gently helped Erin get into the back seat of Beth's car. He hadn't said much of anything since Beth showed up. With Erin safely buckled in, her head drooping against the back seat, Dixon snapped the car door shut.

Beth had expected him to leave, but he leaned against the door and looked down at her.

An awkward moment passed between them.

"Thanks again," Beth said. The wheels in her mind were trying desperately to spin, to tell the butterflies in her stomach to start fluttering. But everything felt fried, like a computer that had set on fire. She barely had enough juice left to be properly awkward around him.

"You can't drive home," Dixon said critically, ignoring her thanks. "You can barely walk."

Beth didn't disagree. "Well we can't exactly call a cab." Her voice was laced with sarcasm.

Without warning, Dixon took the keys out of Beth's hand. Maybe she should have fought against him, but the moment he touched her Beth gave in. Her fingers unfurled on their own accord, relinquishing the keys.

"What about your car?"

Dixon cast a look towards Preston's. "My friend drove me here. He can come pick me up."

Beth's father had drilled manners into her. Manners that, in moments like these, urged Beth to be overly thankful and tell Dixon that he didn't need to go out of his way to help her. But she didn't do any of that. She just crumpled slightly in relief and nodded.

Dixon opened the passenger side for her, which struck Beth as a very gentlemanly thing to do. Beth climbed in and buckled. There were a few beats of silence as Dixon walked around the car to the driver's door. Erin was snoring softly in the back seat.

Seeing Dixon in the driver's seat of her small four-door was like watching worlds collide. When he got in and started the car, a string of music peeled from the speakers. Dixon sat very still, looking perplexed as he took in the feminine decorations of her car.

"What?" she asked, self conscious.

Dixon's eyes traveled disparagingly over the flower crown that hung from her rear view mirror. "Pink. So much of it," he managed.

"Will you feel unmanly if you drive this car?"

Dixon pinched a sparkling headband off of his seat, holding it delicately as if it was a poisonous creature, and chucked it into Beth's lap. "Yes," he said in disgust.

"Good," she said snidely. While he adjusted to her car, a small sound erupted from Beth's lips. It took her a moment to realize that she had just giggled.

It was Dixon's turn to be evasive. "What?"

She shook her head. "It's just... weird. You, driving my car, my music playing."

Dixon smiled crookedly at her and threw the car into drive. A small, red man began flashing angrily at them from the dashboard. "Get buckled," Beth said sharply, more out of habit than anything.

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled, fumbling with the belt and strapping it across his chest.

They pulled out of the parking-lot. Beth watched Preston's fading in the rear view mirror. _Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear. _She threw Dixon a glance.

The confusing awkwardness that followed them like a storm cloud was returning. Beth felt it wrapping itself around them, choking out everything else like weeds. The music should have been a buffer to the silence, but somehow it only made it more obvious that they weren't talking.

"Want to play a game?" Beth blurted out.

Dixon swore, startled by her outburst. He shot her a look. "Okay. What... kind of game?"

Was it her imagination, or was there something suggestive about the way he said that? Beth's cheeks warmed at the thought. She cleared her throat, searching her mind for a game they could play. I Spy felt ridiculously out of context at the moment.

"Um, okay. It's this game I play with my friends. You ask a question, and then the other person can either answer it or ask another question."

"This sounds like a girly game," Dixon complained.

"Suck it up. I'll start."

Dixon muttered something that sounded suspiciously like it had been at Beth's expense. She ignored him, deciding that this was infinitely better than sitting in awkward silence. She sat up straighter in her seat.

"What's your favorite color?"

Dixon shook his head. "I knew this would be a girly game."

"Answer the question," Beth said severely, sounding like a police officer who was in the middle of an intense questioning with a drug lord.

He sighed. "Blue. I guess blue is my favorite color."

"Okay, good. Now you ask me a question."

He was quiet for awhile. Beth was beginning to think that he had given up entirely on their game when he broke the silence with a question. "What's your greatest fear?"

Beth made a face. "Zombies, definitely. Anything that has zombies in it, I can't bear to watch."

"Baby."

Against all odds, the game was making things less awkward between them. Beth might have even said that she was _enjoying _herself, which made no sense considering the situation. An unexpected thrill went through her at Dixon's gentle teasing.

"What's your favorite childhood memory?"

The turn signal clunked back and forth as Dixon turned left onto an empty country road. His cautious amusement from earlier was fading. Beth watched it happen like seeing a cloud go over the sun, and wondered what she had said.

"I actually don't have a lot of those," he rumbled, reverting back to his awkwardness.

He was a different person here in the car with her. In the classroom, he was talkative and energized by the students around him. But it was almost as if that was a mask he wore, and when he was with her he took the mask off.

Her thoughts were turning muddled. She was so sleep deprived.

Through the darkness, Beth recognized the familiar trees that lined her street. Her farmhouse was in the distance. She looked over at Dixon, who kept his eyes carefully glued to the road. Her headlights stabbed into the darkness.

"You remember where I live?" she asked softly.

He looked deftly at her. "Course."

Gravel crunched beneath them as Dixon guided her car down the driveway. Maggie's car was gone, and her parents were staying out late for a church event. Erin had chosen the right night to get drunk; the farmhouse was empty, meaning that Beth could avoid uncomfortable, sticky questions about Erin. Not to mention Dixon.

Beth gently roused her friend awake and eased her out of the car. Dixon helped bring her inside. She quietly led them to the living room, where she laid out goose-down blankets and pillows. Erin managed to be ladylike even when drunk; she thanked Beth profusely, and was unconscious before her head hit the pillow.

Dixon went out on the porch to call his friend. She listened to his rough voice giving directions before disappearing into the shadows of her room. She flicked on her lamp, casting everything in a warm yellow glow.

She went over to her mirror, taking off her earrings and laying them out on her dresser. When she looked back in the mirror, Dixon was leaning on her door frame. Her mind recalled the small inscription on the car mirror: _objects in the mirror are closer than they appear._  
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came to her.

Beth was transfixed as Dixon slowly approached her, staring at his reflection in the mirror. This was the first time he had been in her room. It was jarring to see him among her girlish things, like her lacey bed and her mother's cross stitch on the wall.

Beth drew in a sharp breath as Dixon came up behind her. Their skin was not quite touching. Little bolts of electricity shocked between them. Beth shivered when she felt his warm breath against her hair.

"It's my turn to ask a question," he said, voice husky.

He was staring into the mirror as well. His eyes wouldn't let go of hers.

"Okay," she whispered.

"Do you regret meeting me at Preston's in July?"

"No." Hesitation. "Do you?"

"No."

Both of them were watching each-other in the way that two players watched a chess board. They were tense, prepared for the next move. Beth closed her eyes, swallowing hard. She couldn't do this. She had very carefully built up a wall over the past few months that prevented her from being hurt. Dixon threatened to knock those walls down.

"You should leave," she said breathlessly.

Dixon had stepped so close, that Beth could feel his words vibrating in his chest through her back. She didn't want him to leave.  
She twisted around carefully, feeling like a ballerina practicing her moves. Facing the real Dixon was an entirely different from facing his reflection. She could feel his hips unconsciously pushing her against the dresser.

Her hand found his chest. Her fingers spread out on the fabric of his shirt. Neither of them knew it she was unconsciously pushing him away, or holding him in place. Her fingers briefly curled into his shirt.

Long, unfamiliar headlights ghosted through Beth's white curtains. She knew without having to look that it was Dixon's friend.  
He exhaled shakily, almost a laugh.

"I have to go," he said ruefully.

She walked quietly with him to the screen door. All of the lamps had been turned off so Erin could sleep. The only source of light came from outside on the porch. Half of Dixon's face was in shadow as he paused to look back at her.

"Goodnight, Beth," he whispered in the darkness.

The way he was looking at her, Beth found herself remembering the first time they kissed. She wondered if he was thinking about it, too.

"Goodnight, Mr. Dixon."

* * *

_**Final A/N:**_ I love when authors create soundtracks for their stories, so here are a few songs I imagined for this chapter!

_Apartment _by Young The Giant- When Beth is pulling into Preston's parking lot and sees Daryl

_Noisy Sunday _by Patrick Watson- As Daryl pulls away and drives Beth and Erin home

_Wait for Me _by Motopony- The scene in Beth's room with Daryl


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:** _So needless to say, there's a bit of a controversy over this story! I never expected anyone to read this story, let alone care enough about it to start forming opinions and getting involved. I feel like I should say that obviously the teacher-student relationship is wrong and I am aware of that; if that is a turn off for you as a reader, I entirely understand! But the story is going to evolve and not focus on just _that_ relationship, so just bear with me!

Really an enormous thank you to everyone who has shared their opinions with me and those who have messaged me about it. Even if you don't agree with it, I still appreciate your thoughts and I hope I can tell the story in a way that isn't off-putting.

On that note, have a fabulous Sunday! (Only 13 more Sundays until _The Walking Dead _returns!)

* * *

Beth was good at solving puzzles.

Even when she was a child, her favorite pastime was pouring out a hundred-piece puzzle and slowly connecting the pieces. Maggie was often forced into helping her, just to make sure Beth didn't swallow any of the pieces.

Sometimes it took hours, sometimes days. But the puzzle was always finished and looked beautiful to Beth. She would admire her work and cried when Maggie tore it apart and put it back in its box.

In this case, this puzzle was taking Beth months to figure out.

* * *

Beth woke up early the following morning. The old farmhouse creaked gently beneath her feet as she padded towards the window that opened onto the front porch. The window didn't screech like the screen door did.

While everyone else slept, Beth slipped out the window.

The air was crisp, and fine sprays of red light hinted at the horizon. Beth hadn't slept well last night, because there was a puzzle that she couldn't solve. No matter which way she looked at it, there was one piece that refused to fall into place.

After months of ignoring the problem, Beth was driven to solve it.

The engine of her little car turned over, and she flinched, wondering if it had woken Erin or her parents. She waited but the screen door didn't come flying open. The keys clinked together as Beth guided her car out of the driveway.

Strangely she could still catch whiffs of Dixon in her car. His distinct scent, a mingled spice and cigarette smoke. Everything about last night, from bringing Erin home to the realization that Dixon didn't regret meeting her in July, felt like a distant dream.

It was easier to think of it that way, just as a lucid dream. But something had snapped inside of Beth. Maybe it was seeing Dixon at Preston's last night, or maybe it was the way her chest ached when she caught his comforting scent. But she was finished with this puzzle.

Today, she was putting the last piece in place.

The early light from the sunrise painted everything in a lovely golden hue. There were practically no other cars out on the road. Beth felt remarkably peaceful as she drove. She'd expected to feel fluttery and anxious to the point that her stomach was sickened.

But a serene feeling wrapped itself around her, like the feeling Beth had when looking at the ocean. As she drove, her mind played over the past few months like the spotted film reel of an old movie.

It began in the heart of the summer, on a hot July evening. Erin talked Beth into going to a bar called Preston's, which was only about fifteen minutes away from town. Being well connected, Erin managed to scrape together two fake ID's for them that looked remarkably realistic. If they wore make up and tall shoes, Beth had realized as she looked in the mirror, they almost looked grown up.

By some miracle, or perhaps fate, they got into Preston's. It was packed with people, many of whom Beth had never seen before. Erin started drinking but Beth didn't, as she didn't care for the taste of alcohol. Instead she took a seat at the bar and kept an eye on Erin, who was dancing a ways off.

It was on that night that Beth first met Daryl Dixon.

Unshaven, almost unruly appearance. Long dark hair. Blue eyes that sometimes appeared gray under the light of Preston's. He happened to sit down next to Beth and struck up a conversation.

Unlike the other men at the bar who made her uncomfortable, Dixon was a gentleman. Instead of feeling ogled when he looked at her, Beth felt sweetly flustered. They talked well into the night, to the point that Preston's was clearing out. He made her promise that she'd be back next week, the same time.

It went on like that for a few weeks, into August. Beth would sneak away to Preston's, usually without Erin, and sit at the third seat at the bar. As if on cue, Dixon would materialize and take his normal seat on her left.

She never drank, and though he sipped on a beer he was never drunk. He assumed that she was twenty one, and when he said he was a teacher, Beth assumed it was at any other school in the area.

They only kissed one time, late one night in August.

In retrospect it was a very chaste kiss. They'd been standing outside of Preston's, listening to the crickets and admiring the way the stars glowed like embers in the sky. There was something sleepy and almost dream-like about that night.

He'd turned to her and asked, very quietly, "Beth, can I kiss you?"

Beth had nodded, and he kissed her. It only lasted a few seconds, and Beth was far too nervous to open her mouth. She remembered the way his beard tickled her chin when he kissed her. That kiss rocked Beth to her core despite its innocence, rivaling the explosion of colorful fireworks in the July sky.

Beth never told anyone about Dixon, being that he was a good fifteen years older than her at least. Her reasons to not tell anyone about him only multiplied when she received her senior schedule in late August, and her AP Literature teacher was a man named Daryl Dixon.

The first day, after school, Beth went to his room. She still remembered the pain in his eyes when he said they obviously couldn't see each other, that if he had known she was a senior in high school he wouldn't have kissed her. He'd apologized then and said that he was sorry it happened. Beth agreed with everything he said, but that didn't keep her from crying in her car on the way home.

Beth never breathed a word of her secret to anyone, not even Erin. She once thought that she could survive the rest of the year simply by forgetting about Mr. Dixon. But now, as Beth drove down an achingly familiar road, she realized how wrong she had been.

She'd only seen his place once, when she dropped him off late one night after Preston's. She had never been inside. It was a small place set far back from the road, with a dirt driveway and trees growing like barricades. It was very remote, and looked prettier in the daylight.

His truck was sitting by the cracked face of the garage. Ivy had grown up the white panels of the house, giving it an eery appearance that Beth liked. A mottled brown dog came loping towards her car as she parked and turned off the engine. Its throaty bark echoed through the trees.

"Hey, Scout. Remember me?" she asked gently, running her fingers through the dog's short hair. She'd only met him once, the time she dropped Dixon off. Dixon kept a picture of him in a frame on his desk at school. Thinking of it made Beth smile.

Scout's protective barks turned to a delighted whine the moment he recognized Beth. He pushed his muzzle between her hands, lapping at her fingers with his long, pink tongue. She heard the snap of the screen door and two heavy, black boots came to stand in front of her.

"Hey!" came a rough, vaguely nasal voice.

Scout flattened on his stomach instantly. Beth took a step away from the stranger as he approached. He was large and grizzled, with gray hair that was cropped close to his skull. There was something familiar about his eyes.

He grabbed Beth's arm without warning.

"Who the hell are you, missy?" he snapped. "This here is private property. We don't want no damn girl scout cookies."

He didn't even attempt to hide his scorn. Beth tried to yank out of his grip, but his fingers snaked around her wrist and pulled her towards him. "Let me g- go!" she stammered, shaken up by his rough treatment of her. No one, not even her father, had grabbed her by the wrist this way before.

"She said let _go,_" came a voice.

Dixon was standing in the cracked door frame. She was taken aback by his appearance; gone was the handsome, put-together teacher that she knew at school. He had been replaced by an unkempt man who looked edgily at them through unfocused blue eyes.

"You know this girl scout, baby brother?" the older man taunted. Despite his tone, he released his hold on Beth. She recoiled from him, staring at the angry red finger prints wrapped around her wrist. Those were going to bruise. The words _baby brother _kept running around in her mind like a broken record.

Dixon only had eyes for Beth. He nudged the older man aside and stopped just in front of her, checking her wrist. It was then, as the older man watched them, that Beth put her finger on what was familiar about him: he had the same blue eyes as Dixon.

"Go inside, Merle," Dixon said in a low voice, not bothering to turn around.

Merle's eyes flicked between them. He was seeing too much. "Didn't know you were into jail bait, son."

Dixon was ignoring him, flipping Beth's wrist over in his hands and checking the red marks his brother had left. Faint flickers of electricity shot their way through her arm and pierced her heart like an arrow. She could feel the little details of his hands, the callouses and every little life line.

Beth didn't see Merle go inside, but he eventually disappeared when he couldn't get a rise out of his brother. Scout followed him into the house, and with a snap of the screen door she was alone with Dixon again. Her wrist dropped to her side.

"I'm fine," she said, avoiding his eyes.

"Why are you here, Beth?" She didn't miss the edge to his voice.

She'd recited in her mind what she wanted to tell Dixon. On the car ride over, she had imagined how the scene would play out. So far, her expectations were nothing like reality. She hadn't expected his crazy brother, and now her rehearsed lines had been scattered like houses in a tornado.

She found herself telling him the truth.

"I need to talk to you."

Dixon rose a brow. "There's nothing to talk about."

"After last night-"

"Last night shouldn't have happened," he cut across her, too quickly. "I was a little buzzed and I shouldn't have driven you guys home... it crossed the line."

Beth was quiet. She didn't pretend that his words didn't hurt, but then again she had expected him to say these things. She nodded. "I know, and... I agree. But I just want you to know that I meant what I said. About Preston's."

Dixon shuddered and bowed his head, as if in surrender. He was quiet for a moment.

Blots of golden and scarlet dashed across the horizon, announcing the arrival of the sun. Beth could see the top of the sun now, peeking over the tops of trees. The birds were chirping softly in the trees, creating a symphony.

Maybe it was the peacefulness of the morning, or maybe being close to Dixon again gave her a feeling of security. But like that, Beth's worries were drained from her mind. She wasn't thinking about her parents or about school. She was just happy to be around Dixon.

He peered down at her. His eyes were no longer unfocused. "Do you want to come in for a moment? You should ice that."

There was no double meaning to Dixon's words. He was genuinely concerned for her, which touched Beth. She could tell he felt guilty that Merle had grabbed her so roughly.

"Okay."


End file.
